The gospel isn’t for the strong but people who know they aren’t.
One great thing about our post-denominational age is that it has opened up opportunities to make common cause with other Lutherans who, despite their differences and eccentricities, can agree on some of the most important things.
Pride builds identities that leave no room for grace.

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We are fond of attaching our own résumés to our spoken or unspoken prayers. “I thank you, Lord, that I am not like other men, such as that lying, pathetic, husband named Abraham.”
The world of Mixed Martial Arts, with all its controversies, is not for the faint of heart. Yet, I can’t seem to stop watching the fighting. Sometimes the bloodier the match, the more popular the sport becomes.
We harbor a clandestine doctrine in our hearts: we secretly hope there is a purgatory.
Sometimes the only obstacle to the church accomplishing its goals is when God gets in the way. And he has an irritating habit of doing just that.
Is God the perfect loving father for whom we have all longed; or is he an angry, blood-thirsty deity who can only be appeased by the torture and death of his own child?
Jesus simply can’t help himself. Over and over in the Gospels we find Jesus leaving a wake of physical restoration.
Here’s what lurks beneath this seemingly righteous behavior: they wanted to make a name for themselves, these tower-builders.
You know that person who keeps offending you in some way? They come to you all glossy-eyed and soft-spoken, stammering to get "please forgive me" out because it's the umpteenth time they've done this?
This was one of the most haunting and soul tormenting verses in the Bible for me when I was growing up.
But in that quest for thou shalts and thou shalt nots, you’ll miss what really matters. You’ll trample the cross while racing for the tablets of stone. From the tale of Achan's theft, you’ll rob yourself of Jesus.
“God doesn’t care about the intentions of your heart!” I said a little too loudly and emphatically.
In the tiny Texas town where I grew up, sleeping in on Sunday morning was as inconceivable as rooting for someone besides the Dallas Cowboys on Sunday afternoon.